


Roundworld & Reading

by ShoshanaFics



Category: Discworld - Terry Pratchett
Genre: Discussion Of Bad Handwriting, Dr. Hix Is Mentioned, Gen, M/M, Ponder isn't very nice but he's working on it, Pre-Relationship, Shenanigans, Short Recitation Of Shakespeare, Strange Thoughts Of Potatoes, The Science Of Discworld, Whoops Its A Date, fill in fic, specifically the 2nd one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-03
Updated: 2018-06-03
Packaged: 2019-05-17 12:34:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 880
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14832345
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShoshanaFics/pseuds/ShoshanaFics
Summary: "It looks like a play to me. What's it called?""Twelfth Night, looks like.""Ah," Rincewind turned to the cover of the folio. "What about the first eleven?"





	Roundworld & Reading

     "What did you tell yourself to make yourself sure that you were you?" Rincewind said. Ponder looked up from the book.  
     "What?"  
     "When we," Rincewind wriggled a hand noncommittally. "You know. The elves. When there were two of everyone."  
     Ponder looked affronted. "I thought we all agreed that they would be highly secretive, highly personal tidbits of information," he said haughtily. "I don't think you have the-"  
     "Fine, fine, I was just wondering," said Rincewind. He watched Ponder bury his nose back in the book, then averted his gaze to out of the window. Seven, six, five, four, three, two, one...  
     "Just out of curiosity..."  
     He heard the crinkle of paper, and turned back. "I didn't say anything. I'd already visited me, remember?"  
     "Oh, right. I'd forgotten."  
     "Out of my own curiosity, why'd you punch yourself in the face when we were all deciding which of us would go in? I was rather impressed with that."  
     Ponder looked embarrassed. "I suppose... er, it was a... momentary lapse in logical thinking, I suppose. I just... experienced this overwhelming flood of anxiety, so I er... punched me in the face."  
     "Oh I know all about overwhelming floods of anxiety. Usually that's when I start running, though. Don't care for fighting. It was a good punch."  
     "Thank you," said Ponder, rubbing his cheek absentmindedly. "Rather caught myself off guard. How did you choose?"  
     "We- I- flipped a coin."  
     "You flipped a coin?"  
     "I had one in my pocket from getting lunch last week. Never put it back."  
     Ponder sat back and readjusted his legs in the big chair in Dee's study. "I am constantly impressed with you, Rincewind," he declared. "I never thought much of you before, but you keep surprising me. You know a lot more than I had expected."  
     "Yeah, well, I've been around," said Rincewind, ignoring the subtler parts of Ponder's remark. "I must know something, I mean. They keep giving me more jobs. Useless ones, mostly, but still."  
     "Hence the seven buckets of coal?"  
     "Well, I know you have a million jobs as well," said Rincewind testily. "How many do you get?"  
     Ponder looked stunned for a moment, then giggled awkwardly. His smile was like a slightly embarrassed sunbeam. "Twelve," he said quietly. "But that's just between you and me, right?" He looked suddenly anxious.  
     "Your secret is safe with me, as long as mine is safe with you. That is, I know you already told the Archchancellor, so don't push it."  
     Ponder laughed the strained half-laugh of someone who can understand that the joke is funny even if it is on them, and returned to his book. Or, it wasn't a book, quite. "Hey, I was looking at that earlier," said Rincewind. "That's from another one of the other versions of here, right?"  
     Ponder flipped through it. "Yes, but I can't make heads or tails of it."  
     "Can I see?" Confused but forever curious, Ponder handed it over. Rincewind cleared his throat. "She loves me sure; the cunning of her passion invites me in this churlish messenger... none of my lord's ring, why he sent her none... it looks like a play to me. What's it called?"  
     "Twelfth Night, looks like."  
     "Ah," Rincewind turned to the cover of the folio. "What about the first eleven?"  
     "I can't understand this line," Ponder leaned over and pointed to a scrawled sentence. "She would better love a loam."  
     "That says dream."  
     "Well, whoever wrote this has horrible handwriting," said Ponder. "How can you read it so easily?"  
     "I dunno. Practice, I guess. I finished another one of them yesterday. It had a ghost in it."  
     "What was it called?"  
     "Hamlet, I think."  
     Ponder's brow furrowed. "Like a small village?"  
     Rincewind flipped through Twelfth Night some more. "Wish we had Dr. Hix here."  
     "Do you?"  
     He thought about it. "Fair point."  
     Something was bubbling in Rincewind. He was no great connoisseur of the arts- he just understood people. People were easy to understand. In a way, everyone had their own language. For example, Ridcully's was probably written in all capital letters. The Bursar's changed fonts often. Ponder Stibbons' probably used numbers as well as letters. At the moment, entirely new letters were being created in Rincewind's personal alphabet.*

     *if anyone ever bothered to make this idea into an area of serious scientific study, and then decided to scribe the language of Rincewind, they would discover that this new word shared many of the letters found in the word 'potato'.

     He was no great connoisseur of the arts, but he asked anyway, unsure exactly what it was he was asking. "There's a play going on tomorrow," he said. "The Librarian and I were going to see it. Would you like to come with us?"  
     Ponder's face expressed polite puzzlement. Rincewind felt inappropriately panicky. Translation error, thought a part of him. Or possibly a lexical gap.  
"Maybe when we get home," said Ponder, who had gone slightly red, although Rincewind didn't notice this.  
     "Oh, yeah. Home." Rincewind sighed.  
     "But then... sometime, maybe, er, if you're free. I would be open. To that idea."  
     "Sounds good to me," said Rincewind awkwardly.  
     Ponder took the manuscript back and hid his face in it. Rincewind sat back down and looked out the window onto the street below.

**Author's Note:**

> Ok, are the SOD books why people ship them??? Because that's why I ship them. There's so many possibilitiessssss....I love them sm
> 
> I dedicate this fic to bookhobbit who got me into ponderwind, thank u


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